


Floodgates at the Buchanan

by Alex_deMorra (Ergo_Sum)



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ergo_Sum/pseuds/Alex_deMorra
Summary: For July's Flash Fiction Challenge -- as issued by the simply fab Nathan Burgoine here: https://twitter.com/NathanBurgoine/status/1013767444358311936, this month's combo follows:Genre: MysteryObject: TypewriterLocation: A DamReaders, I am curious how you like the dynamic between Tex and Rutgers and whether you might like to see more of them?





	Floodgates at the Buchanan

Tex Gerber had a second sense for knowing when he was in the vicinity of something recently deceased. So when, on a sparkling Sunday morning following a series of thunderstorms, three items dropped in front of the video feed monitoring the smallest Buchanan Dam floodgate, he slapped the button to stop operations without having to think twice about it.

He called the police first but Denny, his boss, arrived before they did.

“Gawd, I never thought I’d see one of these again,” mused Denny. He was stroking his chin so thick with silver splinters, it made a noise like flickering electricity. “My Mary got one of these, oh, probably when your pa was still in high school. If she wasn’t typing up our reports, she was writing her advice column for The Passport.” Denny wasn’t talking to Tex; he was talking to the man whose aviators were hanging off one side of his mouth and who grimaced each time he was called Greg instead of Officer Brady.

If Denny filled the space with his particular personal history with this particular brand of typewriter, it was only because he was pointedly ignoring the other two items that had splashed down close by. Tex thought the more gruesome of the two might have been the purpled hand poking out of the rolled carpet but that was before the duffel bag started leaking blood.

“Mr. Brady,” inquired the officer. Then, feeling the oddity of questioning someone with the bearer of his family name, he lowered his voice and began again. “Granddad, I need you to focus here. Tell me again how you came upon the…” He waved his hand around the space to indicate that he wasn’t sure which nouns would be best to describe the scene in front of him.

“Well, now. That would be Tex who saw it all, wouldn’t it? Go on, Tex. Tell ‘im what you saw.” Denny’s vowels were so long, they seemed to take up entire minutes to communicate that it wasn’t him that had something to say. But Tex, being the one who did have something to say, was unable to get his mouth to cooperate when all three sets of eyes focused on him. “W-w-w-“ he started. That letter was his worst and, inevitably, the one he went to when his message was urgent.

“Show me,” cut in the other officer. Tex felt his impatience. It was charged; a coiled snake. Tex moved to get out of its trajectory so he stepped sideways. First one step, then more, indicating he should be followed back to the control station where the officer could intimidate the video system into showing him whatever he needed to see. Together, they watched the items dropping from the top of the dam from different angles.

Eventually, they discovered the feed from the surface where a red truck lacking a license plate burped past a champagne SUV in midst of a three-point turn. “Tex, is it?” This officer, Rutger, going by the etched bronze bar on his uniform, flashed glorious white teeth that should have been in movies and, in any other mouth, would have been surrounded by lips that could be mistaken for being kind. But in this man’s mouth, they were dangerous and hungry. Tex’s heart was stuck in his throat, making it was difficult to respond with anything more than a nod. “You don’t mind if I borrow this phone, do you?” The phone was already in his hand.

After dialing, Rutger described the crime scene and footage of interest. His description was precise and careful. It didn’t sound like there were anything more than facts presented to the person on the other end of the call but these were words in which more had been added. More color, more detail, more than Tex himself would have thought to have shared and he found the effect of the sounds of those words were like hooks that sunk into his skin. By the time the call ended, Tex was aware that he had been looking at Rutger the entire time. And that Rutger had been looking back.

The sky opened again with a flash. The thunderclap followed almost instantly. The phone rang and he answered with his frustration clearly overflowing. “Ge-ge-ge-erber.” The familiar voice of his colleague reminded him of the urgency in opening the floodgate per their plan. “W-w-w,” he replied and took a deep breath, pinching his fingers together until they were white and arranged the words in his head to avoid the ones like _we_ and _west_ and _wait_. “There’s a situation here," Tex spluttered. "Open the east gates. These remain closed.”

“Gerber, I’m not kidding here. We are maxed out. The east gates are already open.”

Rutger must have heard. His eyes widened in an understanding that Tex did not mirror. What Tex did know was that Lake Buchanan, unlike Lake Travis below it, has no space to store floodwaters. He needed to act and now. “I’ll open up the mains.” Tex was already remote dialing into the center of seven main floodgates, each of which could release the best part of nineteen thousand cubic feet per second of water.

Rutger was close enough for Tex to feel his heat at his shoulder. “How many people know when these floodgates open?”

Tex shook his head, concentrating on controlling the flow. “Everyone knows it happens but not many know the timing.”

A string of curses flew out of Rutger, following him out the control room door. The monitor at his right showed the officer running at speed toward the crime scene where Officer Brady—Greg—sat alone on a boulder with his head in his arms. Rutger yelled something at his partner then looked stricken into the camera at the same moment Tex felt that same peculiar feeling he experienced at the beginning of the day.

Something cold dug into his neck, accompanied by his boss’ words. “Listen, Tex. I need you to be a good boy and open up those floodgates on the west side like you’re supposed to.”


End file.
